turned off a shopping street presently and came upon another small park set in the centre of a square of tall houses, and at its head, the theatre. The taxis stopped half way along one side and they all got out. Miss Savage’s flat was on the first floor of a solid house in the middle of a terrace of similar houses, a handsome apartment, well furnished in the modern Scandinavian style, with its own front door in the lobby on the ground floor. A pleasant-looking young woman had opened the door to them and shown them up the short flight of stairs and disappeared down a passage, to reappear presently with a tea tray. Louisa, bidden to pour tea for everyone, did so, and then at Miss Savage’s casual: ‘Have a cup yourself, Louisa, then perhaps you’d unpack? There’s a maid somewhere, see if you can find her,’ went to do as she was bid.
The flat was larger than she had supposed. She had opened doors on to three bedrooms, a bathroom and a cupboard before she came to the kitchen. There was another girl here, young and pretty and, thank heaven, speaking English.
‘Eva,’ she said as they shook hands. ‘I come each day from eight o’clock until seven o’clock in the evening. In the afternoon I go for two hours to my home.’ She smiled widely. ‘You would like coffee?’
Louisa hadn’t enjoyed the tea very much. ‘I’d love a cup, but I was going to unpack.’
‘Then first I show you your rooms and then the coffee. You are the nurse, I think?’
‘That’s right.’ Louisa followed her back down the passage; first her own room, light and airy, well furnished too, with a shower room leading from it, and then her patient’s, much larger, with a bathroom attached and a balcony looking out over the square. Louisa, fortified by the coffee and five minutes’ chat with Eva, went back there presently and started to unpack. It took quite a time, for Miss Savage had brought a large wardrobe with her; for an invalid she appeared to expect a good deal of social life. Louisa arranged the last scent bottle on the dressing table, arranged the quilted dressing gown invitingly on the bed, and went in search of her patient.
The tea party was still in full swing, only now a tray of drinks had taken the place of the tea and Miss Savage’s pale face was flushed. Before Louisa could say anything, one of the men called out: ‘All right, nurse, we’re just off—got a plane to catch. Look after our Claudia, won’t you?’ He winked broadly: ‘Keep her on the straight and narrow!’
Their goodbyes took another five minutes and when they had gone the room was quiet again. Quiet until Miss Savage burst into tears, storming up and down the room, muttering to herself, even waving her arms around. All the same, she managed to look as pretty as ever, like a little girl who couldn’t get her own way. Louisa’s kind heart melted at the sight of her; with a little difficulty she urged her patient to sit down and then sat beside her. ‘You’re tired,’ she said in her quiet, sensible voice. ‘It’s been a long day, and it’s not over yet. Suppose you have a nap for an hour and Eva and I will get a meal ready for you. You haven’t eaten much, have you?’
‘I want to go home,’ mumbled Miss Savage, and buried her head against Louisa’s shoulder.
‘Then why don’t you? We can pack up in no time at all and after you’ve had a good night’s rest we can get a flight back…’
‘Fool!’ declared Miss Savage. ‘Do you really suppose I wanted to come? To leave my friends and all the fun…’
Louisa, who hadn’t taken offence at being called a fool, quite understanding that her companion was suffering strong feelings about something or other, had asked merely: ‘Then why did you come, Miss Savage?’
‘He made me, of course. I have to live, don’t I, and if he stops my allowance what am I to do?’
‘Who’s he?’ enquired Louisa gently. ‘You don’t have to tell me, only it might make it easier if you did—perhaps we can think of something.’
‘My beastly brother. I detest him—he’s mean and high-handed and he made me come here so that he can make sure that I don’t spend too much money—and don’t have my friends.’
‘Very unreasonable,’ commented Louisa. ‘And what about me? I cost money, don’t I?’
‘Oh, he pays for you—it was one of the conditions…’ Miss Savage paused and rearranged her words. ‘The doctor said I had to have someone to look after me…’
‘I should think so indeed!’ declared Louisa indignantly. She still didn’t like Miss Savage overmuch, but probably her way of life was the result of having a despot of a brother who bullied her. ‘Does your brother know you came here today?’
Miss Savage nodded. ‘Yes—but you needn’t worry, he won’t come here. He’s miles away—the last I heard of him he was north of Tromso, that’s on the way to the North Pole—well, it’s a long way beyond the Arctic Circle.’
Louisa produced a handkerchief and wiped Miss Savage’s face for her. ‘I can’t quite see why you had to come to Norway. If your brother wanted you to lead a quieter life, couldn’t you have gone to live for a time in the country in England? It would have been much cheaper.’
She couldn’t see her patient’s face so she didn’t see the cunning look upon it. Miss Savage sounded quite convincing when she said: ‘But my friends would still come and see me!’
‘You’ll make friends here,’ declared Louisa. ‘I thought the town looked delightful, didn’t you? In a few days, when you’ve rested, we’ll explore. There are bound to be English people living here.’
Miss Savage sat up. She said: ‘You’re much nicer than I thought you were. I daresay we’ll have quite a good time here. You will help me, won’t you? I mean, if I make friends and go out sometimes?’
Louisa answered her cautiously: ‘Yes, of course, but you have to rest, you know, but I don’t see why we shouldn’t work out some sort of a routine so that you can enjoy yourself. No late nights, at least until the doctor says so, and take your pills without fail and eat properly and rest—that’s important.’
‘It all sounds utterly dreary,’ Miss Savage smiled charmingly at her, ‘but I’ll be good, really I will.’
Suiting the action to the word, she went to her room, took off her dress and allowed Louisa to tuck her up under the duvet.
Louisa unpacked, consulted with Eva about their evening meal and then, for lack of anything else to do for the moment, went to sit by the sitting room window. There were people in the street below, hurrying home from work, she supposed, taking a short cut across the little park and disappearing round the corner of the theatre at the far end. The sky was clear, but there was a brisk little wind blowing the leaves around and she wondered what it would be like when autumn gave way to winter. From what she had seen of the town she was sure she was going to like it. She hoped she had brought enough warm clothing with her: Miss Savage’s luggage had contained thick woollies and a couple of anoraks and fur-lined boots, and there was a mink coat which one of the men had carried for her… Her thoughts were interrupted by the telephone and she went to answer it quickly before it disturbed her patient. A man’s voice, slow and deep, asking something or other.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand you…’
‘You are the nurse?’
‘I’m Miss Savage’s nurse, yes.’
‘I should like to speak
